


Degrees of Love

by fauxpocky (alisso)



Category: House MD
Genre: Character Study, Gen, No Dialogue, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-30
Updated: 2006-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisso/pseuds/fauxpocky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has their own angle on House.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Degrees of Love

**Author's Note:**

> References to Control, Love Hurts, and Honeymoon through to Need to Know.

**180° - Suddenly Facing the Opposite Direction**  
\- _Cuddy_

When Vogler accused her of sleeping with House, Cuddy was actually so shocked that she'd answered him. Professionalism reasserted itself when he assumed that they _had_ slept together, but she knew her refusal to discuss the issue only left him convinced that his suspicions were correct.

His constant conviction that she _liked_ House, and that was why she wouldn't fire him, should have been her first indication that, money or no money, Vogler was a poor judge of people, probably a very bad manager when it came to dealing with people - which was pretty important in running a hospital - and, quite possibly, _insane_.

She didn't like House. It was impossible to _like_ House. House himself went to great lengths to ensure that. No one _liked_ him. They could tolerate him, ignore him, hate him or love him. Those were pretty much the only options.

The biggest priority in her life was the hospital, and for its sake she'd given up a lot, and tolerated a lot more. Knowing House's reputation and skills as a doctor, she'd been prepared to tolerate him for the sake of what he brought to her hospital.

She'd put up with his antics, his addiction, his rudeness to her and to his patients - she tried to prevent him from letting his ego and his attitude offend people _too_ much, or, god forbid, get anyone killed, but she did let him get away with a lot. Because he really was an amazing doctor. He couldn't always immediately prove his theories, but he could always work out what was going on. And his personal motivations might be a little odd, but she didn't think she'd _ever_ met a man more determined to save the lives of his patients - whether they wanted to be saved or not.

He really was a remarkable man. But she _didn't_ like him. Respect him, sure, admire his dedication, fine, enjoy arguing with his razor-sharp wit at times and feel validated when he acknowledged that she'd scored a hit...okay, so maybe there was a hint of something more than tolerance. And she didn't hate him, and she couldn't ignore him, but she definitely didn't like him.

She was quietly but uncomfortably aware that this only left one option from her list of Ways People Feel About Greg House, but you couldn't cope with the conflicting ethical, social and medical dilemmas of working your way up to, and successfully running a teaching hospital without learning valuable skills in the field of not thinking about things that made you uncomfortable.

**45° - Skewed from the Straight Line**  
\- _Cameron_

She didn't care what he _said_ , she knew how little it meant. He said it himself - "Everybody lies". That included him.

So when he mocked her, insulted her, "diagnosed" her behaviour and "explained" her, she took it all in her stride. He'd come around.

His actions spoke louder than his words, after all, and she knew she could read them well.

Hadn't he come to her to beg her to come back? That had to mean something. He'd even taken her on a date to get her to come back. If he didn't really like her, he could have just walked away then and there.

Regardless of how it had gone, that date had given her hope. She still had the corsage he'd brought her, carefully pressed flat and dried. Some days, when he was particularly cruel, or worse, ignored her, she would take it out and look at it, to remind herself not to give up on him.

He _needed_ her, she knew it. He'd been abandoned by the last woman he loved, right when he needed her most, so of course he had trouble trusting her now.

When Stacy came back she'd watched him chase after her, gritted her teeth and waited for Stacy to show her true colours and walk out again. She'd gotten the flower out a lot in that time. Especially after that, thing, with Chase. She blamed Kalvin for that, taunting her for being dull, and practically handing her the drugs.

And then Stacy was gone again. She never really knew why, but she thought the other woman must have gotten sick of the way House was chasing her. He needed to learn that persistence was useless if you weren't really meant to be together.

Once Stacy was gone, House had been in even more pain, and she'd desperately wanted to help him, but she knew she had to wait. So she'd waited again for him to wake up and turn to her. Waited for him to admit how much he needed her.

She _knew_ she could help him, knew he needed her. She knew he needed to open up, learn to love again, and she was determined to be there for him when he was ready for it again.

Any eccentric genius needed care, needed support. Even the most vitriolic, misanthropic doctor had some redeeming features, and for all his flaws, House was a good man, deep down. He worked so hard to save lives.

The least she could do was be there to support him.

He'd appreciate it. One day. 

**90° - Breaking Away**  
\- _Stacy_

He hadn't changed. He was still manipulative, aggressive, attractive, intelligent, everything she couldn't stand and everything she wanted.

But he didn't want her.

So maybe he had changed.

She hadn't thought it was possible, but he actually seemed more bitter now than he'd been when he was first learning to cope in the aftermath of the infarction. That certainly seemed to explain the way he'd chased her, seduced her, used every bit of his not inconsiderable charm to win her back, then rejected her.

She'd thought it was safe to come back. James had been concerned for her effect on Greg, but assured her that he was doing as well as he would let himself these days. And when he was being charming, he'd seemed, almost back to his old self. Maybe better, because he seemed to be trying to apologise for how he'd treated her before.

But he'd just been setting her up.

James had been so concerned about her effect on _him_ , why hadn't he noticed the bitterness, the drive for revenge? Unless he saved his bitterness for her. That would be like him.

She had to leave. Should have left long before now. The instant she realised he'd stolen her therapy file she should have seen what he was like now and walked away. But there was something...magnetic, about Greg. He drew her to him, even though sometimes he repelled her.

She'd cried, when it all became clear, when he stopped stringing her along. Then she'd been angry. With him and with herself. She should have known better. She was angry with him but she knew there was no point in showing that to him. She might as well scream abuse at a thunderstorm.

The only thing she could do now, as before, was leave. Get out of range of the force that drew her to Greg House, against all sense. Try not to think about what they'd shared, and how much more intense it was than the sedate emotions she shared with Mark. Try not to let the memories of her betrayal ruin whatever was left of what she had with Mark.

She was a pragmatist, at heart. She'd sacrificed Greg's leg for his life. She'd given up their love for her sanity. She could let go of her pain for a measure of peace. She could cut her losses and run.

She still loved him. She'd always loved him and always would, even when she hated him, couldn't stand him. She just wasn't prepared to pay the price required to be with him.

And she had too much pride to ever beg him to take her back now, after what he'd done.

**360° - Always Coming Back to the Starting Point**  
\- _Wilson_

At times he wasn't sure why he put up with House. Why he stood up for him, endured him, tried to protect him. Why he persisted with this stupid, screwed up friendship - even if he didn't have much else in life going for him. If there was really nothing worthwhile here, he could have moved on, found a new niche for himself. But something made him stay.

Something had made him stand up to Vogler and his reign of terror - although he would have objected to Vogler's actions under any circumstances, he'd lost his job defending House's. His only consolation then had been a vague idea of the two of them finding work elsewhere. He was sure they'd sell better as a pair. Who would want House without someone who could keep him at least half tame? And his own skills were more valuable when they came with a grumpy but brilliant diagnostician as part of the package.

He wasn't sure why anyone else put up with House either. And why on earth Cameron had been so intent on dating him was beyond him, too. He'd warned her to be careful, tried to explain that House was more emotionally vulnerable than he seemed, but he could tell she didn't quite believe him. She clearly didn't think House was so easily hurt, or that she was ever going to do anything that would hurt him. He wasn't sure which assumption scared him more, but Cameron's obsession worried him.

He'd hovered over House before and after the date like a mother hen (or a Jewish mother), watching for signs of hurt, but House hadn't let her close enough to hurt him. He hadn't let any woman close enough since Stacy.

_She_ should have known better, when she came back. Should have sent Mark alone, or gone somewhere else. He couldn't tell her to go elsewhere, he couldn't let Mark die, after all, but he tried to warn her to be careful. She hadn't, of course, and then she'd hung around, causing more trouble. Bad enough that Greg had been annoyed with him for skipping the monster trucks to see her, but then having to watch him chase her around was irritating.

He'd been glad when she'd gone, even if it had left him picking up the pieces yet again. At least they'd had a bit of peace for a while.

The peaceful times, he decided, were part of why he stuck around. The times when they could relax and just be themselves. Not Drs House and Wilson, not two men trying to cheat death at every turn, just James and Greg. Two friends, always, through everything, just relaxing in each others' company.

It was in those times that he could best appreciate House's dry wit and wicked sense of humour, his intelligence, the comfort of his presence. His silences were expressive, and their silences together always seemed warm and welcoming, to him. It didn't seem to matter how they spent their time, so long as they were together.

And, in the end, they always were.

**0° - The Central Point**  
\- _House_

He thought he'd probably always watched other people, even before it had become the keystone of his career. He must have started honing his observational skills early, he reasoned, or it wouldn't come so easily to him now.

It was habit, as much as anything, to observe and study the people around him. Learning to draw conclusions from his observations had been the next logical step, and he'd begun to do it almost without realising.

It made for a fascinating hobby, and it had drawn him to medicine. What better way to exercise his skills of observation and deduction and make a career of them? He got to study the sometimes fascinating puzzles of diseases, toxins and parasites, and he got to study people and their reactions.

He didn't like people much. They lied and made mistakes and they were unconscionably stupid. He could conceive of almost no greater crime than to willfully choose to remain ignorant, and so many of the people he met insisted on staying in the dark. Claimed to be happy in their darkness.

How on earth was he supposed to _like_ someone who would do a thing like that?

He could put up with his fellows. After all, they were there to learn - and from him, no less. But they still grated. Particularly Cameron, with her deliberate refusal to accept the evidence in front of her. It was bad enough that so many people chose ignorance, but for an intelligent person to refuse to acknowledge the truth when it was shoved in their face, just because they prefered their own, illogical views of the world was verging on insanity.

He had no choice about putting up with some people. Cuddy was his boss, she wasn't going away any time soon. He could live with that, though. She was mostly intelligent, trusted him more than most would have, and could take his snide remarks in her stride. She was just too intent on playing it safe.

They both knew, after all, that safety was usually an illusion. He was as willing to take a calculated risk as he was to take the unavoidable hundreds everyone took each day, unknowing, when they crossed the street, breathed in bacteria they couldn't see, trusted other people. At least he could measure most of his risks.

The people he did more than tolerate were few and far between. Stacy had been one of them, till his leg intervened. She was still the woman he'd loved, still just as fascinating and beautiful, but now he couldn't look at her without remembering.

Try as he might to see things differently, all she represented to him now was pain. The mental pain of betrayal, of her lack of faith in him and her denial of his wishes, and the physical pain that betrayal had bequeathed him. At one point he couldn't look in her eyes without his leg throbbing more fiercely for a moment.

There was only one person now he could admit to really liking. He knew people misconstrued, people thought he liked Cameron, thought he could still care for Stacy. They didn't seem to see the affection he did show. If they would only use a little intelligence, observe what they saw, and think about it properly, they'd get it.

They'd see, he was sure, how different he was around Wilson. How he'd accept things, comments, behaviour, from Wilson, that he'd never even tolerate from others. How Wilson was the only one he kept around for long periods, and certainly the only one he sought out.

And they'd be able to see why, although he thought they should be able to see that already.

Wilson was everything he needed, in a friend, in an ally. And most importantly, Wilson chose to be that, for him.

Why, exactly, he chose that, was probably the only puzzle he didn't think he'd ever be able to solve. But as long as Wilson never changed his mind, he thought he could live with a little mystery.


End file.
